In the Eyes of the Beholder
by Madam Morilinde
Summary: From the time he was a small child, Remus has felt like an invisable line seperated him from everyone else. His entire world is about to change with a single letter. With a single letter comes great joy...but also a great burden. Can Remus save Sirius fr


ONE Romulus's memories floated through his unconcious mind. A flickering series of pictures raced past, and despite best efforts to latch on, they slipped through the fathomless depths of his dreams like icy water through his fingers. Yet one he could catch. He cupped it and drank deeply, quenching the years of his dying thirst. Tonight, he would know the truth; tonight, he could be elevated from the pain caused by years of ignorance.  
  
Dappled sunlight lit the valley in which he stood. It warmed the freshly dewed grass beneath his feet, and took the chill off the water that flowed over the sandy depths of the river. The land was green and fertile, calling out to him and singing the joys of life. Faintly he could make out the smoke line from a chimney in the distance. Following his initiative, he made his way down towards the worn trail beside the river. The winding path was smooth beneath his wandering feet, worn down and corroded from years of use. Engrossed in the strange, yet familiar scenery, Romulus didn't hear the low throaty growl emerging from the arrow wood bush just a foot away from him.  
  
One step further and the beast pounced, applying all it's weight into knocking him down. Dazed, with an uncomfortable pressure on his chest, he glanced up into the eyes of a she-wolf. His numbed fingers slipped beneath his cloathing to reach for his wand, but paused, hand and body frozen with horror with what lay upon him. His eyes could not waver from that penetrating gaze. Her round peculiarly green eyes bore into the deepest depths of his soul, searching for something unseen. An old and awesome wisdom shone forth from the wolf's eyes and entire being. She was a being whom demanded respect and stood with pride and noble bearing.  
  
Leaning slightly forward the she-wolf, to Romulus's shock and amazement, licked his face from chin to forehead. Perking her ears up she turned towards the bushes from which she had leapt, sniffed the air and let a whimper. Trotting through the heavy bush she paused in mid stride to look back at Romulus. Her strange emerald green eyes still held the recognition unbeknownst to him. A sharp wailing pierced his thoughts sharply and set the she-wolf at a run. He peered over the bush, not daring to follow for fear of not having the same recognition again. Beneath the sheltering leaves of an overspreading oak, the she-wolf was suckling two human babies.  
  
The light burnt down in his eyes like that of a failing flame. Colours merged and swirled and the darkness enveloped him.  
  
Romulus awoke startled and gulping for precious air. Trembling, with clammy hands he reached for his wand. "Accio water."  
  
His head ached as it always did after the dream. Yet this time it had gone further than before, he was getting close. He knew it; he could feel it in his bones, but getting close to what?  
  
TWO Morning broke into a dazzling sun filled sky. Rays of sunshine peeped through cracks in the curtains to dance upon Romulus's sallow skin. Romulus groaned and tried to roll over to the pleasantly shadier side of his bed, but was so tangled up in his sheets that he only managed a sparse few inches. Muttering a curse beneath his breath, he fought the clingy covers off and trudged into bathroom. A nice and neat room that stood out in huge contrasts with him.  
  
Almond brown bloodshot eyes met his reflection, stubbly cheeks, an unruly goatee and a hard-set jaw. Romulous was of average height with any male wizard or muggle, about 5'9, he couldn't bother checking. He chest was wide and muscular from years of working with a muggle family on a farm up the hills of a small town in Germany, although he was originally from Ireland, or so he thought.  
  
Hopping into a tepid shower, he bellowed out in song he didn't know the words too, but liked the tune. Finishing his cleaning with a high shrill note that even hurt his own ears, Romulus strutted into his bedroom to get changed. A picture of his mother and father stood on his bedside locker, both Irish muggles. His mother, Aoife, had long lustrous shiny black hair that hung to below her shoulders, like his own. Her luscious red lips and brown cat eyes set off her pale, almost translucent skin. His father, Cormac, had a charming grin that split his face nearly in two, like his own. He had a tumble of sandy brown hair, hazel eyes, and a strong jaw that was clean-shaven.  
  
Pulling on a narrow necked jumper over his head, he got slightly stuck, that is, if you can be stuck slightly! Heaving and puffing, Romulus tugged at the jumper until he heard a rip. In frustration he tried to tear the jumper from him completely but only managed to get himself in a worse mess than before. Groaning and collapsing onto his bed in resignation, he lay there sweating and feeling the fool until a squawk and a tap at his lead designed window caught his attention. Rolling of the bed with a "thump", he emitted a long whimper. He had unconsciously decided today was going to be a day entirely for himself. Be pampered, looked after, maybe a few butterbeers in the Three Broomsticks. His face suddenly split into that captivating grin that set womens knees all a wobble! He could almost hear the click of Madam Rosemertas sparkling shoes, tapping in irritation. He hadn't rung her on the muggle-phone or sent her owl post, or contacted her in anyway in four months. A shiver of apprehension coursed over his skin and down his back. He made a mental note to avoid the Three Broomsticks at all costs or she may very well use three broomsticks on him!  
  
Romulus, very awkwardly, flung his window out into the icy bright morning letting Shamira fly in hooting indignantly. As he looked out, the garden was silent and silver-white beneath the freshly fallen snow. It sparkled and his breath came in bleached clouds of vapor. He filled his lungs with the brisk cool air with an almost pleasurable sensation. Tendrils of overhanging ivy held onto the window frame tenaciously dripping with melted snow that they cast off uncaringly onto his unprotected head.  
  
THREE Closing over the window, Romulus shook his mane of raven hair to rid himself of the melted snowfall. Walking over to his bed he plunked down with a contented sigh.  
  
"So Shamira, what have you got for me today? If it's the wand tax, you can casually fly back out there and "loose" it!"  
  
His great gray owl gave him an ominous look and pinched him, hard enough to be felt, with her hawk-like beak.  
  
Romulus gave a mocking cry of pain.  
  
"What's ruffled your feathers today m'luv? Lover boy not turn up last night? Oh you poor neglected thing!"  
  
Thrusting out her foot she nonchalantly threw the letters into her masters awaiting hands. Romulus beamed a grin. He knew he was the only one able to "ruffle her feathers". Screeching at him with contempt, she flew off to her perch, brushing her feathers across his face as she did so.  
  
"Ah I love you too Shamira," he uttered over his shoulder.  
  
Riffling through his mail, he heaved a curse. " Bloody wand tax!" Three sickles were owed to the Ministry Of Magic for every time you let a muggle see your wand. It always incited the wrong type of curiosity!  
  
21 Sickles! He owed 21 sickles! 31, now that he owed 10 for having his wand serviced!  
  
Curling the bottom of his course goatee around his right index finger -as he always did when he was thinking- he started to mumble inwardly to himself.  
  
" No no no, can't do that, catch me with fire so they would. Hmmm, Shamira is more chicken than owl to do it. Ah ha!"  
  
Dry washing his hands he took up his wand tax payment form and threw it in the fireplace. Grabbing half a hand full of floo powder he chucked it in shouting in a strong, clear voice. "The North Pole." Green flames flashed and danced, engulfing the letter in a cloud of sickly colored soot.  
  
Chuckling to himself with glee he sprawled onto his bed to shuffle through the rest of his mail. His hand stopped dead with the last remaining letter left suspended in his outstretched fingers. A wave of excitement gripped his stomach as he broke the seal of the lion, the raven, the badger and the snake.  
  
FOUR 16th August 2003  
  
Dear Mr. O'Keefe,  
  
Following your application and interview for the position of apprentice to Professor Rubeus Hagrid, teacher of the Care Of Magical Creatures, we, at Hogwarts, are pleased to offer you the place stated above. At an unknown time during the year, for the duration of one month, you shall act in Professor Hagrids stead.  
  
If you intend on taking up this offer, you must accept -by owl post or in person-, by Monday 25th 2003. Details will be given to you accordingly, following your acceptance letter.  
  
Yours Sincerely,  
  
Albus Dumbledore  
  
Albus Dumbledore ~ Headmaster  
  
(Order of Merlin 1st class, Grand Sorcerers, Chief Warlocks,  
  
Supreme Mugwumps, International Confederation Of Wizards.)  
  
FIVE  
  
Wasting no time in returning his hasty reply, Romulus dashed a few words down on some parchment.  
  
"Shami!!!!! You beautiful bird!! Where are you?!"  
  
Flying into the room from around the corner, Shamira settled herself on the back of a chair and began to meticulously preen her feathers, in what could only be said as a sulky manner.  
  
Blowing the hair from out of his eyes he grumbled something incomprehensible, his smile of pure joy slipping from his face. Picking his words carefully he apologized rather gruffly to his master of post.  
  
Taking her time in making sure her silky feathers were in order, she looked at Romulus from the corner of her eye and let out a rather loud squawk in what was meant to be an upbraiding. After a few more guttural sounds she flung out her leg and turned her head. She still hadn't forgiven him.  
  
"Get this to Professor Dumbledore as fast as your wings and the wind can carry you Shamira, don't let me down."  
  
Puffing up her breast feathers, she stamped her temporary perch in a rhythmic beat, hopping from talon to talon. Head down, tail feathers in the air she leapt at the window just as Romulus freed it from its catch. Flying into the bitter hue less sky, Romulus stared out the window after her. Watching her flight, he also watched the beginnings of his hopes and dreams start to unveil.  
  
SIX Miles away, in the back brush of beyond in England, Remus crept out of his ramshackle cottage to spend time alone on a solitary walk. He wore a thick nondescript cloak, and a scarf over his head to shield him from the frosty wind that sliced across the country. The sharp cold air was exhilarating, bringing him fully awake, but did nothing to help his pounding head.  
  
Frozen grass crunched softly underfoot as he walked to the far end of the field and stopped by his favorite tree, an elm. After a long night, he felt at peace with the world.  
  
His dreams had been vivid, disturbing. As often happened, he saw a she- wolf, which was really not that unusual because of his "illness", and two small babes suckling on her, which, in itself, was crazed. But this time, there was another person there, as if someone had their hand on his shoulder, yet, when he turned around, there was no one there. Something had flitted on the corner of his eye like a dark shadow, waiting to be found.  
  
.  
  
Time had overlapped. He now saw sons that he knew he would never have. He was thin, pale, his skin like dusty parchment. Yet the "someone" was still there, with him, sharing things unknown, like a part of him he now only realized that he missed every day of his life.  
  
Everything after that was a jumble. But moments before he woke, he had heard a voice, female, clear and strong: "Know this Remus. You'll master anything you set your heart on. Setting your mind isn't enough. The mind follows the heart; it's a servant of your wanting."  
  
Now, looking around with a squint, Remus saw the sky beginning to lighten.  
  
SEVEN Heaving himself up from the rough bark of the elm tree, Remus floundered back through the heather choked field. His feet unconsciously followed the one-man trail until he was startled to find himself at the iron-hinged door of his cottage. Letting the troubles of the night go in one explosive breath he pasted on a superficial smile and waltzed in to his oppressive little sitting room.  
  
Seating himself in a chair he glanced across the room where two black eyes met his.  
  
Wavy black hair sprouted from the head in which those two black eyes were set. It was a steady, critical gaze.  
  
Sirius harrumphed and carefully laid down the morning's edition of the Daily Prophet. Sniffing loudly he lifted his unturned hands to the fire that danced and flourished gaily, emitting comforting warmth and banishing the leaden weight that leaned heavily on the senses and spirit. Staring unperturbed into the flickering flames he spoke in a deep baritone. "You didn't sleep again last night Remus." It wasn't a question but a simple fact. Turning his intense gaze from the fire to his lifelong friend, he asked with deep worry in his voice, "Why?"  
  
Shifting uncomfortably under his stare and question, Remus replied in an off hand manner. "I just went out early for a walk Sirius. No need to get so worked up over a walk. I needed to clear my head and sort out a few things is all." He smiled feebly at his friend, hoping against all hopes that Sirius would drop the topic of conversation.  
  
"With the way you were thrashing about last night, it's a wonder that your bed is still intact. Your restless and worried friend, I will again ask you why?"  
  
A strong feeling of anxiety set in on Remus. Sirius was a sober fellow by nature, it was a part of his character that made him who he was, but he was never this grave. Now, in turn, Remus was worried about Sirius. Hadn't he remembered what happened to him?  
  
"I haven't been sleeping great lately to be honest. It's driving me bonkers! I've taken every sleeping potion going, but it doesn't seem to have any effect." Remus purposefully left out any indication about his dreams. Sirius was already disturbed; he didn't want to make him even more so.  
  
Sirius visibly sagged into his chair with relief. The gnawing sense of worry evaporated from the pit of his stomach, leaving him free to finally give Remus his first proper smile in days.  
  
EIGHT "Two owls came with post today," grumbled Sirius. "One was from Hogwarts. It had both our names on it so I opened it; I hope you don't mind Remus. But as they say, "Curiosity kills the cat," except this time it nearly killed the dog." He smiled gruffly and let out another loud sniff.  
  
Without any warning, the door flew open and a small aged woman shuffled into the room. Patting her neat iron-gray bun back into place as if she had made great haste in scurrying from one room to another, she deftly waddled over to Sirius. " I heard that sniff my dear, so don't try and pretend it was my ears failing me again. Now what's wrong with you?" Trying unsuccessfully to examine every part of his massive hairy frame at once, Mrs. Figg didn't realize that her left hand hadn't come in contact with Sirius' body but had passed straight through it. Sirius leapt from the chair quicker than was humanly possible.  
  
"I'm fine Auntie, really. Some soot from the fire made my nose run, that's all!" Panic glazed his eyes as he desperately thought of another excuse. He shot a hopeful glance at Remus, but his "friend" was chuckling helplessly beneath his hand.  
  
Clearing his throat, Remus piped up and said in a fairly steady voice that only shook slightly, " Oh no Mrs. Figg, he's been sneezing like a good thing all morning, and moaning about it too might I add. You know Sirius, he wouldn't complain if his paw was chopped off! This must be something serious!" He added a grim nod to the last part for emphasis.  
  
Sirius shot Remus such a sinister look that if looks could kill, Remus would be dead and buried six feet under. Remus just replied with a look of wide-eyed innocence.  
  
NINE "Now Remus," she chided. "You know I don't like to be called by my muggle name! Sylvia or Mrs. Black will do perfectly well!"  
  
Remus threw his hands up in the air to cover himself, fending off imaginary blows. Peeking through split fingers, he could see that Sirius had been backed into a corner. Poor Snuffles was being interrogated and poked and prodded.  
  
"Auntie," he said softly, but with a hard edge of irritation to his voice. "I'm well able to take care of myself." Gently brushing her frail shoulders, he led her to his chair. "Now you just sit down and I'll make you a cup of tea. How does that sound?"  
  
Throwing his eyes over to Remus, Sirius sneaked his right hand behind his back. His thumb overlaid his baby finger, leaving his three remaining fingers in the semblance of a claw. Remus' eyebrows rose so high that they became one with his hair. He hadn't seen that signal used since his school days in Hogwarts. An encoded message meaning "serious trouble." That was a sign Moony, Padfoot, Wormtail and Prongs knew all too well.  
  
TEN Remus followed Sirius as he departed their gaudy little sitting room. Turning on his heel, Sirius opened his mouth as if too talk but only exhaled. His eyes held an immense worry that bit at what was left Remus' hope for assurance. Groping at the inside of his bronze broadcloth cloak, Sirius cleared his throat but words eluded him yet again. Instead he mutely handed Remus two letters, one of which had been torn open. Tucking the still sealed letter into his worn forest green cloak, Remus sat down upon a bent willow branch chair. It was surprisingly comfortable, belying its formidable appearance.  
  
Emerald green ink in a precise hand stained the expensive white parchment. Flipping it over, Remus traced the broken seal of Hogwarts before delving into the envelope to retrieve the letter.  
  
CONFIDENTIAL  
  
Padfoot and Moony Tumbledown Cottage, The Back Brush of Beyond, Enchanted Area no.165, England.  
  
Dear Padfoot and Moony,  
  
FORGIVE MY ASSUMPTION OF NAMES, BUT I WRITE TO YOU ON A MATTER OF THE  
GRAVEST URGENCY. I FEAR THAT UNWANTED VIEWERS MAY INTERCEPT THIS LETTER,  
SO I SHALL BE BRIEF. THE TIME HAS COME FOR US TO DISCUSS THE MATTER OF  
SIRIUS' APPARENT "DEATH". I PRESUME THAT PADFOOT HAS FULFILLED MY  
REQUEST, IF NOT, MAY HIS FEET MAKE LIKE THE WIND IN ACCOMPLISHING, THAT  
WHICH HAS TO BE DONE. I WOULD BE OBLIGED IF I MAY SPEAK WITH BOTH OF YOU  
AT SOME TIME BEFORE THE START OF TERM. THINGS SHALL BE EXPLAINED IN FULL  
WHEN WE MEET.  
  
Best wishes and luck to you both.  
  
Professor Albus Dumbledore  
  
(Order Of Merlin 1st Class, Grand Sorcerers, Chief Warlocks, Supreme  
mugwumps, International Confederation of Wizards)  
  
ELEVEN  
  
Remus re-read the letter held fast in his callused hand. He tried to decipher some of its perplexed meaning, but to no avail. Sirius obviously knew the majority of what Professor Dumbledore spoke of, but when Remus looked up as his worried friend he found a tightning around his eyes and mouth. It gave Sirius an almost shrewd look.  
  
"Why my shaggy dog, you look almost thoughtful! What has happened to make  
you look so astutely intruiged?"  
  
"Oh haha Remus. My stomach is shaking with mirth! Now be serious for a  
moment."  
  
Remus looked over at his friend once again. Sirius was wearing a white-  
laced purple apron over his broad frame, and he had asked him to be  
serious? Remus suppressed a chuckle of hilarity and smoothed his face  
into a semblance of calm. Looking at the letter once more he took on a  
grievous countanance.  
  
"What must be done Sirius? And what in gods name is happening to the wizarding world that Dumbledore sent us a letter of "gravest urgency?" You don't think.It couldn't possibly be.Not yet!" Remus' face had drained itself of what colour it had, leaving him with a sickly wan complexion.  
  
Sirius' hand left the knife on the chopping board where he was preparing vegetables for the evenings meal. He shook his mane of raven hair and replied in a grave manner, "No Remus, not yet. That time has not come, but another has. One of which I cannot tell you for I do not know myself." Looking Remus sincerely in the eye he added, "And it scares me."  
  
TWELVE  
  
Thousands of possibilities swam through the depths of Remus' mind as he reached the security and privacy of his own bedroom. He cast a knowing glance over his few personal belongings. Azure blue wallpaper hung despondently from the rising damp, his charm obviously hadn't worked to repel the slight moistness in the walls. Sighing he kicked the faulty door of his pine wardrobe shut and sunk down into his well-worn mattress.  
  
Lifting off his pointed, brown trimmed cord green hat, he flung it into the corner where another bent willow branch chair resided. His coarse brown hair was scrubbed through with hardened fingers as his body tried to maneuver into a somewhat comfortable position. A protruding lump in the mattress was trying its best to bruise every possible soft and vulnerable part of his torso. After a few minutes of frustrated tossing, he lay still to catch his breath. Realizing an unaccustomed weight lay over his heart, Remus slipped his hand underneath his robe only to produce the other unopened letter. But it did not only contain a letter by the weight and feel of it.  
  
Flipping it over, Remus ran his fingers over the red seal containing three wolves' heads separated by a chevron. Curiosity dawned on him as his thoughts ran back through the signets and seals he had seen before. But this one.this one was new, he had never seen or heard of the like. Fingers trembling, Remus grabbed hold of the envelope and snapped the seal in two. 


End file.
